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J. Gambold, 1752, in Some other Hymns and Poems.

1. O Head so full of bruises,
So full of pain and scorn,
'Midst other sore Abuses
Mock'd with a crown of Thorn!
O head, e'er now surrounded
With brightest Majesty,
Now pitiably Wounded!
Accept a kiss from me.
2. Thou Countenance transcendent,
At other times rever'd
By Worlds on thee dependent
With Spittle now besmeared!
          etc.

J. W. Alexander, 1849, in the Schaff-Gilman Lib. of Religious Poetry.

1. O Sacred Head, now wounded,
With grief and shame bow'd down,
Now scornfully surrounded, 93
With thorns, Thy only crown.
O Sacred Head, what glory
What bliss till now was Thine
Yet, though despised and gory,
I joy to call Thee mine.
2.
(Gerh. IV.)
What Thou, my Lord, hast suffered,
Was all for sinner's gain:
Mine, mine was the transgression
But Thine the deadly pain.
Lo, here I fall, my Savior:
'Tis I deserve Thy place;
Look on me with Thy favour,
Vouchsafe to me Thy grace.
3.
(Gerh. VII.)
The joy can ne'er be spoken,
Above all joys beside,
When in Thy body broken
I thus with safety hide.
Lord of my life desiring
Thy glory now to see,
Beside Thy cross expiring
I'd breathe my soul to Thee.
4.
(Gerh. VIII.)
What language shall I borrow
To thank Thee, dearest Friend,
For this, Thy dying sorrow,
Thy pity without end?
O make me Thine for ever;
And should I fainting be,
Lord let me never, never
Outlive my love for Thee.
5.
(Gerh. X.)
Be near me when I'm dying,
O show Thy Cross to me:
And to my succour flying,
Come, Lord, and set me free.
These eyes new faith receiving,
From Jesus shall not move;
For he, who dies believing,
Dies safely through Thy love.

Miss Winkworth, 1855, in her Lyra Germanica, 1st Series.

1. Ah wounded Head! must Thou
Endure such shame and scorn!
The blood is trickling from Thy brow
Pierced by the crown of thorn.
Thou who wast crown'd on high
With light and majesty,
In deep dishonor here must die,
Yet here I welcome Thee!
94

Miss Winkworth, 1863, in her Chorale Book.

1. Ah wounded Head that bearest
Such bitter shame and scorn,
That now so meekly wearest
The mocking crown of thorn!
Erst reigning in the highest
In light and majesty,
Dishonored here Thou diest,
Yet here I worship Thee.

A cento by J. C. Ryle, 1860, in his Spiritual Songs.

1.
(Gerh.
stanza VIII.)
I give Thee thanks unfeigned,
O Jesus, Friend in need,
For what Thy soul sustained
When Thou for me didst bleed.
Grant to lean unshaken
Upon Thy faithfulness,
Until I hence am taken
To see Thee face to face.

Cento from J. Gambold's version, in Reid's Praise Book, 1866.

1. O Head! so full of bruises,
So full of pain and scorn;
Midst other sore abuses,
Mock'd with a crown of thorn!
O Head! ere now surrounded
With brightest majesty,
In death once bow'd and wounded,
Accursed on a tree!
2. Thou countenance transcendent,
Thou life-creating Sun
To worlds on Thee dependent,
Yet bruised and spit upon! . . . etc.

J. Kelly, 1867, in his Paul Gerhardt's Spiritual Songs.

1. Oh! bleeding head and wounded,
And full of pain and scorn,
In mockery surrounded
With cruel crown of thorn!
O Head! before adornèd
With grace and majesty,
Insulted now and scornèd,
All hail I bid to Thee!

S. M. Jackson, 1873, 1890, in Schaff-Gilman Lib. of Religious Poetry.

1. O Head, blood stained and wounded,
Tortured by pain and scorn! 95
O Head in jest surrounded
By a rude crown of thorn!
O Head, once rich adorned
With highest laud and lays,
But now so deeply scorned,
To thee I lift my praise!

Sir H. W. Baker in Schaff-Gilman Lib. of Religious Poetry.

1. O Sacred Head, surrounded
By crown of piercing thorn!
O bleeding Head so wounded,
Reviled and put to scorn!
Death's pallid hue comes o'er Thee,
The glow of life decays,
Yet angel-hosts adore thee
And tremble as they gaze.

Miss Margarete Münsterberg, in her Harvest of German Verse, 1916.

1. Oh, wounded head and bleeding,
By pain and scorn bowed down!
Oh head, the gibes unheeding,
Bound with a thorny crown!
Oh head, once decorated
With honors gloriously,
Now tortured so and hated,
I greet and worship Thee!
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